


don't you forget me

by Amikotsu



Category: Naruto
Genre: Amnesia, Exhaustion, KakaObi Week 2020, M/M, Predator/Prey, Recovery, Stalking, Temporary Amnesia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-20
Updated: 2020-02-20
Packaged: 2021-02-22 02:40:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,033
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22808317
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amikotsu/pseuds/Amikotsu
Summary: There's someone stalking him, and he doesn't have it in himself to care. There are holes in his memories, one empty spot around the fateful night when he'd killed Rin. First the window, then the door, then the footprints, and he's waiting for the person to strike.
Relationships: Hatake Kakashi/Uchiha Obito
Kudos: 98
Collections: KakaObi Week 2020





	don't you forget me

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: Amnesia

He woke up in the hospital, the last day of his life suddenly a blank space in his mind -- they said it was amnesia, or something along those lines. They wouldn't tell him anything more, as if they were protecting him from something, as if something bad had happened. The blank space was better than a gaping hole, so he chose not to ask. Kushina walked him home; apparently, Minato was on a last-minute mission, the details classified, her expression grim. When he asked about Rin, she smiled at him and told him Rin was on a mission too. He chose not to ask, assuming that it was also classified. He remembered everything important, or so he thought, but Kushina still insisted on testing him. She had him point out rooms in his apartment, then she had him use the burners to prepare tea. Under her observation, he prepared two cups of chamomile tea, then they sat down and she reminded him that the war had ended. He remembered Kannabi, the mission that had completely destroyed him in almost every possible way. He remembered how it had rained all the way home -- the weather had known exactly how he'd felt. Kushina stayed for three hours, both of them nursing the calming tea. He assumed she was lonely. When he asked about Rin again, she told him that she would keep an eye out for the girl. After the Kushina had left, he'd stayed in the front room for hours, watching the sun slowly fall toward the waiting horizon. In the dark, he felt at peace with the world. 

It was four in the morning when the truth dawned on him. The realization left him shaken. He sat up in bed and turned on the bedside lamp, then he stared out at his small bedroom. The place lacked decorations, the lack of personal touches suddenly bothering him; he had his team photo next to the lamp, then he had a closet and dresser full of clothes. He had nothing else, besides furniture, and the furniture didn't count. But the realization wasn't about his empty apartment, or the fluid motions of his curtains in the evening breeze. Slowly, he turned toward the window, the jarring realization suddenly unimportant. He didn't remember leaving his window open. How had he missed such an important detail? Shinobi never slept with open windows. Open windows were dangerous; they were perfect entry points. Kakashi threw back the covers, then he left his bed to walk the few steps to his window. The lock worked -- he tested it several times -- so he lowered the window and locked it once more, the cool evening breeze no longer dancing with the curtains. No one else was in the apartment. He was safe. He was home. But Kannabi followed him in his dreams. He dreamt of blood and bones and the white-hot heat he associated with lightning jutsu. Something was missing. The blank space mattered a little more. 

His third day out of the hospital, he noticed something peculiar about the doors in his apartment. Every night, he locked his door; in the morning, he woke up to a door slightly ajar. Regardless of the many times he double checked the door, he still found the door ajar. One morning, someone knocked on his door and it creaked open. Minato had returned from his mission and he stood in the doorway, looking at the loose chain dangling from the door.

"You shouldn't leave your door unlocked, not to mention the fact that it was partially open." Kakashi mumbled an agreement, though the mystery remained. Minato took one look at his rough appearance and shifted back into sensei mode, as Obito used to call it. Obito. That name brought such pain. "Is everything alright?"

"I would be better if people stopped treating me like glass. I have amnesia. I'm not dying." Kakashi turned and walked further into his apartment, bypassing the kitchen for the living room couch. He liked his old home better, but the awful memories remained -- just like the bloodstains he never could remove. "How was the mission?"

"Good. Eh, you know we only treat you this way because we care. Kushina and I are worried about you. The Hokage mentioned you wanted to take missions again."

"He refused. I'm on an official leave, length undetermined."

"Take time for yourself, Kakashi. These past months have been stressful. You can't serve your village if you're struggling in your everyday life."

Kakashi hummed in response and leaned back into the couch cushions, throwing his feet up onto the edge of the coffee table. Kakashi had hated when Obito used to visit and put his feet up on the coffee table. Kakashi had thought it was gross, so he used to slap Obito on the back of the head until the boy moved. Minato found his answer lacking, if the sigh said anything, but Kakashi didn't know what to say. Minato had pushed for him to relax since Kannabi, but that had been thirteen months ago. He told himself he was fine, that he would be fine, but the dreams continued, as if they would never stop, as if he were meant to live the rest of his life remembering Obito's forced smile. Just the thought of the mission left him feeling ill. He wanted to see Rin; he needed to see Rin, to know she was alright, to know she wasn't struggling the way he was struggling. No one wanted to talk about her, despite the fact that shinobi went on missions every day. He decided to wait, because he had no other option.

Minato didn't stay long, though he was reluctant to leave. He told Kakashi to show up whenever Kakashi liked, regardless of the time of day; he wanted Kakashi to show up, to rely on him, and Kakashi knew that. Some part of Kakashi still blamed Minato for what happened that day in Kusagakure, the day where a piece of himself had died. He should have been stronger; he should have protected Obito. But there they were, just a ghost of their former team. After Minato left, Kakashi locked the door, and returned to the couch, where he saw the light of day bleed into night. At some point, he must have dozed off, because the noise of the chain connecting with the door woke him. Alarmed, Kakashi checked his apartment, opening doors and turning on lights as he went, but the apartment was empty. Someone wanted him to know that he hadn't been alone. Kakashi sat down at the kitchen table and stared at the open door to his apartment. For some reason, he recalled Shimura Danzo approaching him in some sort of attempt to recruit him, for what he didn't know. Kakashi remained awake for the rest of the night.

Five days out of the hospital, Kakashi had to get out of his apartment. He'd run out of food, and the thought of starving himself simply because he didn't want to socialize left a sour taste in his mouth. Obito had died for him, so he refused to waste that life. Hands tucked into the pockets of his pants, he slowly made his way along the streets, choosing to approach like a civilian rather than a shinobi. He stopped outside of a grocery store and looked in through the front windows, his visible eye scanning over their faces. He took one step in the direction of the door, but he decided to see if Rin had returned from her mission. At the thought of her, he remembered rain, the sound of it, the smell of it, and his head began to ache. The sharp pain had him stumbling a few steps, but he forced himself to keep moving. 

Rin had left the orphanage as soon as she had the money saved for her own place. Originally, Obito had offered to share with her so that they could save money. That had been before Kannabi though. None of those plans mattered anymore. He'd never offered to room with either of them, preferring his solitude, but that had been before Kannabi. He had a decent apartment with a spare room, and he didn't need it, unless he meant to offer the room to Rin. Kakashi frowned at the thought. Eyes downcast, he remembered the awkward love confession that had taken place too soon after the disaster of a mission. He'd known, of course -- he'd always known.

Kakashi slowed his pace until he came to a sudden stop. People were carrying boxes into Rin's apartment building. One by one, a man and woman carried away boxes that they'd stacked next to the open doors of the building. He watched through the windows as they ascended the stairs, then he saw them inside Rin's apartment. When the couple returned for more boxes, Kakashi finally found the strength to approach them. The woman noticed him first.

"Are you moving into apartment three?"

"Oh! You startled me. Hello! Yes, we're moving into Three! Could we help you with something?"

"What happened to the girl who used to live there?"

"Oh. You mean," the woman trailed off, turning to the man approaching them. She had a look on her face that sent Kakashi's heart pounding. He knew that look; he'd soon that look far too many times. Pity. "She died," the woman finished, reaching out to try and touch his shoulder. He recoiled, tripping over his own feet and bumping into an older man on an early morning jog.

"She's," Kakashi tried.

He didn't have the strength or the mental power to do more than breathe. His whole world split open at the seams, the sound and feel and taste of a rainstorm long forgotten returning to him in one quick swoop. The couple tried talking to him, but he couldn't hear their voices. He'd never considered himself a coward, but he turned and ran away. Halfway through his strategic retreat, he realized he had no idea where he was going. Fight or flight told him to escape, so he escaped. He hid in an alley, one hand pressed against the side of the building for stability, taking deep breaths. After the rush had passed, he went back to his apartment. He should have gone to Minato or Kushina, but both of them had lied to him, as if he would spend the rest of his life waiting on someone who would never return.

Kakashi didn't need to fish around in his pockets for his keys, not when his apartment door was open again. Sighing, he pushed the door open the rest of the way and stepped inside. Muddy footprints went from the living room into the short hallway that led to the bedrooms and bathroom. Kakashi slammed his apartment door, as if the noise would scare any possible intruder away, then he went over to the living room window. The window was open, of course, curtains dancing in the breeze again. Kushina had insisted he get curtains instead of blinds. His intruder really needed to thank her. Kakashi stuck his head out the window and looked around, and he found muddy footprints up the length of the building; in fact, he saw his building manager trying to clean the mud off with soap and water. Kakashi slammed the window closed. Something felt _off_. He wondered if that memory of a thunderstorm had something to do with it.

Kakashi slid down the wall until his butt connected with the floor, then he covered his face with his hands. He didn't cry. He hadn't cried in thirteen months and he promised himself he wouldn't break the streak; he promised himself that he wouldn't fall apart again. Rin wasn't there to dust him off and put him back together again. What was he supposed to do without her? He was the last one, the remainder, the forgotten. Eventually, he would die too. No one would remember them. Memories faded. And sometimes they were snatched away in the night. That blank space grew smaller and smaller, closing in around him. He didn't want to know what the thunderstorm meant; he didn't want to know what had happened to Rin. He wanted to sleep everything away. So he did.

He woke up to the sound of a floorboard creaking and he jerked upright. The moonlight coming in from his open window reflected off a kunai. The weapon hovered over him, the kunai so close to his chest that moving would have had him impaled. The person leaning over him wore a dark-colored cloak and a mask with black lines across it. Something told Kakashi not to move, so they remained frozen in place. In the dark, Kakashi couldn't make out anything in the single hole on the mask. The darkness worked in the intruder's favor. Why hadn't he perceived a threat? He was a light sleeper, and the person had snuck up on him, simple as that. As a shinobi, he deserved to die for being so lax. Were they going to remain that way until one of them inevitably lashed out, engaging in a life-or-death struggle for survival? And he remembered the thunderstorm again, his left eye practically burning. He reached up to his left eye and pressed a palm there. As if spurred by the movement, the intruder finally struck. Kakashi substituted with a lamp, which promptly shattered under the heavy hit.

"It's been you the whole time. You're a shinobi. Why haven't you killed me? Why leave me little clues?" Kakashi had his tanto then, and he stood in a stance that allowed him one swift strike. In the dark, the cloak blended with the shadows, leaving only the eerie mask. "Why are you after me?"

"You killed her."

"Killed her?"

"She was the person I loved most in the world, you _murdered_ her! You murdered her!"

The kunai came at Kakashi again, so he blocked the strike and lashed out with a fist that seemed to pass right through the man. Something was wrong. Something didn't feel right. His eye burned, but he needed the sharingan. Kakashi threw objects at the man, every item passing right through, as if the man were a ghost. And the thunderstorm hovered in his mind, slow images crawling across his eyes. He'd killed her. It was all his fault. He remembered the way Rin had uttered his name, the last thing she ever said to him. He deserved to die. He was trash. He'd wanted to abandon her in Kusagakure; in the end, he'd killed her. Even if he didn't mean it, even if it was an accident, he'd killed her.

"Obito?" The name was choked out, and he found himself reaching for the mask on the man's face. He took a nasty hit to the jaw that had him stumbling back. He tasted blood. "I'm so sorry. I didn't. She just," Kakashi managed to say, his throat closing off. He hadn't cried in months. He'd once thought he'd shed every tear he ever had. He once thought there was nothing left.

"That's not my name," Obito hissed, taking another swing at Kakashi. That time, Kakashi caught the fist and twisted, bending Obito's arm at an awkward angle. "What does it feel like? You think you know pain and suffering and loss? You don't even remember what it was like to shove your hand through her chest. I remember everything!"

"I didn't mean to! She jumped in the way. There was no way for me to stop!"

"Excuses! You aren't even worth it. You deserve to spend the rest of your life alone."

Obito threw the kunai and it connected with the wall, the sharp tip embedded in the drywall. He turned to go, his anger bubbling over, but Kakashi caught his cloak, fingers tangling in the fabric. Obito turned to punch Kakashi, but Kakashi ducked and threw himself forward, catching the man in a hug that locked Obito's hands to his sides. They stayed like that, both of them overwhelmed for different reasons. Obito stayed. He could have left; he could have broken the hold. There was something of Obito left there, something Kakashi held onto.

"Stay. Stay with me," Kakashi said, burying his face in Obito's neck. Obito smelled like rain and pine, the scent that clung to the forests. "I do know about pain and suffering and loss. I lost you once. I'm not losing you again."

"She was the world to me, and you took her away," Obito managed to say, voice thick and deep to show the fragility of that moment. Kakashi knew Obito was crying. They both knew. "There's nothing left, Kakashi. Without her, there's nothing left."

"I'm left. I'm here. I'm someone. Stay," Kakashi repeated, tightening the hug, the force crushing their bodies together. Slowly, Kakashi reached up to remove the mask and Obito let him. In the dark, even with the moonlight, Kakashi saw little of Obito's face. "Stay for me."

"I don't know how," Obito whispered. "How do I rebuild on the broken foundation? Why do I matter so much to you? You hated me."

"You just do. You rebuild, brick by brick, board by board, until you find something resembling all that was taken from you. I want to rebuild with you."

"I can't come back here. This place," Obito began, fists clenched at his sides. "I can't give you what you want. I have nothing to give you, not anymore."

"You. I want you. I want Obito. He's still there. You're still here." 

Kakashi touched Obito's cheek, tracing over the scars he couldn't quite see. Obito leaned into the touch, as if starved for attention, and maybe he was a starving man. They stayed in that position until their arms felt cramped, until they both felt claustrophobic. Hesitating, the distance between them slowly increasing, Kakashi leaned in again and kissed Obito. It took time for Obito respond, the seconds stretching on for days, weeks, months, years. They were both there, both hiding the dark, fumbling for something, slowly rebuilding Obito's fractured foundation. In the end, Obito stayed. Kakashi was enough.


End file.
